


Not Exactly Hello

by LaBelleetlaloup



Series: A plus tard et rebonjour [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Depression, Gen, POV Stiles, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4956406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleetlaloup/pseuds/LaBelleetlaloup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Not Quite Goodbye. Derek comes back in the Fall and finds that Stiles is not the same as when he left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Exactly Hello

There was a knock on the door. Stiles glanced up wearily. It was already closer to nine than eight, not the typical hour for social calls. Who would be bothering her anyway? Everyone knew that her father was in the hospital from his accident when everything had come to a head again and the Doctors had unleashed their monster. The only person who wasn’t actively ignoring Stiles from the pack was Lydia, because her mother had put her in Eichen House and she still wasn’t out yet. Kira and Noshiko had been out of town for ages. Maybe one of the neighbors had brought a casserole? Stiles dragged herself off the couch and to the door.

She pulled the door open and froze. “…Derek?” When had he gotten back into town?

“Stiles,” Derek smiled fondly at her. “You look tired. How are you?”

“Uh…” Stiles shrugged and stepped back to let Derek inside. “Dad’s in the hospital. Concussion, broken wrist, internal bleeding, three sprained ribs and one hairline fracture. I’m fine.”

“No wonder you smell so anxious,” he replied. “What’s Melissa saying about his condition?”

“The doctors say he’ll recover. The internal bleeding stopped yesterday and he doesn’t seem to have any memory loss. Just, he’s a cop. They know he’ll go back to work the minute they release him so they’ve kept him for almost a week already.”

“That’s hard,” Derek agreed. “At least he’s healing. He’ll be back to normal soon enough.” Stiles nodded and fidgeted nervously, rubbing at her eye.

“How about I take you out to the house? I don’t think I’ve gotten off the couch since school ended. It’s all finished, got some basic furniture and non-perishables: coffee, tea, cereal, canned goods…”

“Yeah, let’s distract you,” Derek agreed. Stiles put on her jacket and shoes and grabbed her phone and Derek led her outside, putting her into the passenger seat of the Toyota.

Stiles babbled about how the house had gone up quickly and without any issue and the extremely fire-proof materials she made sure they used and how she had made sure that it had basic furnishing for when he got back and had had a security system installed. Derek kept quiet and let her talk until she ran out of things to say. Then he talked. He told her about how well Peter’s therapy had gone, how Peter was nearly back to his old self from before the fire. They had managed to recover his memories and Derek had apparently also lost a few things just before his mother had taken the location of the nemeton from him. Apparently Ennis had mistaken Peter and Derek for Hunters and had chased them through the woods until they’d half-fallen into the cellar under the nemeton and Ennis had lost their scent. It was clear that Peter’s ridiculous story about Paige and Derek’s eyes turning blue had been an amalgation of various confusions, luckily for the sanity of everyone involved.

“Wow,” Derek cut himself off as they pulled up in front of the house and the floodlights came on. “It looks amazing.” He turned and smiled at her.

“Well, you did the plans well,” Stiles murmured quietly. She certainly hadn’t changed anything. Derek frowned at her for a moment.

“Well, come on,” he prompted, getting out of the car. Stiles unbuckled her seatbelt and followed Derek.

“See, there’s floodlights that illuminate every inch of the clearing, all motion detected,” she pointed up to the sources of the light. “Part of the security system. It’ll deter pranks and petty larceny, at least.”

“And slow everyone else down while they adjust to the light,” Derek agreed. “That’s a smart decision.”

“The security contractor knew his stuff,” Stiles agreed. Derek frowned again but still didn’t actually say anything.

“Alright, inside,” Derek decided. Stiles gave him the key code for the door and fetched the physical spare key from the storm drain. Derek looked impressed but this time didn’t say anything about it. Derek led the way inside and Stiles disarmed the standard security system, telling Derek the code.

“You can change the code, of course, but something has to be programmed in at the time of installation,” she explained. “And there are sensors placed out in the woods that go off if they aren’t deactivated quickly enough, like your alarm did in the loft.”

“Any other security measures?” Derek asked, turning on the light. “Oh, that’s a nice chandelier. Definitely a good choice to leave this open to the second floor.”

“You’ve obviously got a talent,” Stiles agreed. “There’s a panic room in the basement and the tunnels have been finished but have the same claw key thing that the vault does to open from the outside. No one random could use them to sneak into the house. There’s also bulletproof glass in all the windows, ground and upper floors, and the doors are reinforced. They don’t break easily. Plus, there’s a ward-stone in the panic room that repels mountain ash and wolfsbane and stuff like that.”

“Who did the ward-stone?” Derek asked.

“Some lady off the internet, pretty sure it was actually Morell, but she didn’t know who she was doing it for. And I tested it—works quite well, you can’t activate a mountain ash circle around the house or clearing and the wolfsbane bullets that Chris left behind wouldn’t come out of the gun when I fired them in range of the house. They all misfired, like duds.”

“Sounds like you thought of everything,” Derek said warmly. Stiles shrugged.

“Anyone can make a list,” she mumbled.

“Well, I was born a werewolf and I didn’t think of half of this for the loft,” he argued. Stiles just shrugged again. Derek took her cue and didn’t continue that thread of conversation. “Well, show me around…”

Stiles led him through the house, pointing out the bare essentials furniture she had managed to cobble together. It was like remembering a dream, thinking about how she had been so industrious over the summer, scoring a sofa and loveseat off the curb downtown and reupholstering it herself, getting a dining room table and chairs from craigslist, moving the little things for the kitchen over from the loft, putting beds in the bedrooms and sheets and pillows and pillowcases and blankets on them. For what would be Derek’s bed, she had merely gotten duplicates of what he had in the loft-if he wanted something different, at least he’d have a second set for the loft. Stiles had spent so much thought and effort on making it presentable and secure at the time, whirring around busily like a bee. Now everything she put her hand to seemed so pointless, but this house had turned out well… Probably because Derek was the one who had designed it. He was smart. Of course, he was smiling at her like he thought that she was the reason that the house had turned out well. Poor thing had clearly been away long enough that he’d forgotten how badly Stiles always screwed everything up.

They ended up back down in the kitchen, Derek making a grocery list while the pop-tarts toasted and Stiles trying to be quiet and inconspicuous. There was no need to bother Derek when he was so generously putting up with her. Derek still kept glancing up at her, like something was wrong. Maybe it was just that she was being so good and quiet. She had put a lot of effort into being less of a burden to everyone around her recently. He was probably just surprised.

“So… how is everyone?” Derek asked tentatively. Stiles flinched. “You already told me about your father, but what about the pack?” She tried to hold back her wince.

“Um…” she was not sure where to start. “Kira and Noshiko left because Kira and her fox separated somehow and the fox tried to take over the body. It may have killed someone. Something left a dead body on Scott’s kitchen table with Kira’s katana in it at any rate. Ken is still here, teaching. Liam got a new girlfriend and she died and then somehow got resurrected. His control’s gotten a lot better, at least. Malia killed the Desert Wolf. No one knows where she went after that. Lydia’s in Eichen House because she got knocked into a coma. She’s doing better now. Parrish is apparently some sort of psychopomp like Lydia. Scott… um…”

Derek gawked at her for a long moment. The pop-tarts popped out of the toaster with a ding, breaking the tableau.

“So, I wasn’t the trouble magnet,” he muttered, pulling the pastries out. He put one in front of Stiles. “What happened to Scott?”

“He’s fine, I think,” she replied. “I haven’t spoken to him in awhile.”

“What did he do?” Derek growled.

“Well, he sort of kind of ended up killing some people, I think is what Melissa told Dad, but he already wasn’t speaking to me because I killed someone. He’s with Raphael now. Not really sure, honestly.” Derek was quiet for moment, frowning at her.

“How did you end up killing someone?” he asked.

“Well, you remember the Donovans, right?” Stiles asked. “Dad was Mr Donovan’s partner on the force. The son was a few years older than you…”

“Yeah, I remember him,” Derek nodded. “His dad died in the line of duty? I think Laura and Mom went to the funeral.”

“He always blamed Dad for his father’s death and then he tried to become a cop but he never passed the personality test. And recently he got caught up in the supernatural drama. There was this whole chimera thing. He was… I don’t even know. He had mouths in his hands. He didn’t handle the extra dose of aggressiveness well and came after me to get to Dad. I couldn’t handle the situation and I didn’t run fast enough and I impaled him. It was pretty horrible. He didn’t die right away. He was looking at me…”

“Why were you alone?” Derek asked.

“Well, I was at the library.” Stiles shrugged. “Why would anyone have been with me?”

“But didn’t you already know that he was powered up and after your dad?” Derek looked very confused. Stiles nodded. “Then shouldn’t someone who had super-speed and enhanced strength been with you at all times?” Stiles just sort of shrugged.

“Scott didn’t think it was important,” she explained. “He thought I should be able to handle the situation.”

“There’s no way that situation could have ended any differently unless you died,” Derek stated flatly. Stiles just shrugged. She had gone over and over that night and Scott’s reaction and Theo telling her father that he had done it and how credible Donovan’s threats had seemed. Nothing really added up together to make any sort of sense. Derek cupped her chin in his hand. “Alright, talk to me… what happened?”

“Well, Theo told Scott about what happened but Theo wasn’t there. And then Theo told my Dad that he killed Donovan but Theo wasn’t there. And then Theo tried to kill my Dad. And I just… I don’t get it. Nothing about the entire situation makes sense. The entire library was spotless by the time the police arrived because I put in an anonymous tip but I didn’t touch anything. It’s like…”

“No, Stiles, you aren’t possessed. I’d be able to tell. I could smell it. I could see it. You’re still you. You aren’t losing time.”

“Well, you weren’t here, but you’re right, it’s only one incident in months,” she grumbled in agreement. “It’s just… I’ve turned the whole situation over and over and I swear that the pole he was impaled on just appeared out of thin air in his torso between me seeing him following me and the next time I looked down. And I can’t figure out where the hell Theo was supposed to be. Like, he later claimed to God and everybody that he was at the library that night and saw the whole thing, but his car wasn’t there and I never saw him and none of the police saw him. And he’s supernatural. Why didn’t he step in? He was trying to get on my good side at that point. Saving my life and keeping me from murdering someone might have been a useful tactic. He did it like two days afterwards.”

“Stiles, take a deep breath,” Derek ordered. Stiles acquiesced. “Start from the beginning and pretend this is for a police confession. Run me through everything from the time Donovan showed up. I’ll give you a second opinion.” That actually sounded really great.

“Okay, so I was at the library late. I was studying.”

“School library or city?”

“The one at the school. So I was studying but it’s late and the sun’s gone down so I decide that I need to head home and sleep. I go out to the Jeep and it won’t start. Dad hadn’t given me money for car repairs in months because of the hospital bills and Malia all but moving in for a few months. So I’m not surprised the Jeep isn’t working. I got out and I’m futzing with the engine. I keep a toolbox in the Jeep now, so I have a flashlight in one hand and a wrench in the other.

"Suddenly, Donovan’s there. He attacked me. The hood came down on my head. I hit at him, with the wrench, and managed to get him hard enough to make him stumble back. You can’t get into the school library without a student ID. Donovan’s in his mid-20s. So I run back into the school and into the library and hide in the stacks. I hear somebody come in behind me. I’m trying to be super still and quiet. Suddenly he grabs me by the shoulder, drags me through the shelf, books go everywhere, like three shelves domino down. It’s a disaster. His hand, it had teeth and I had holes in my shoulder, it hurt really bad. I managed to fight him off again and try to run again…

"Honestly it’s all a little fuzzy. I think I still had the wrench at that point, but maybe I dropped it in the parking lot. I’m not sure. But anyway, I got away. I run. There’s some scaffolding where they were putting in a small lofted area, so I try to climb that. There’s supposed to be a skylight or something, so I was thinking maybe I could get out there. Well, it didn’t take Donovan too long to recover, so he’s up and behind me just as I start climbing. He grabs my ankle, pulling on me. Thankfully his teeth didn’t get through denim. I shake him off and reach down and pull one of the pins. I could have sworn he was like two feet off the ground. I just meant to make him fall. But the metal below me all goes tumbling down and I couldn’t look and then I looked down and Donovan’s impaled on this huge pole, straight through his spine. It was awful. He was looking up at me and blood bubbled up in his mouth and then his eyes went blank. I nearly threw up.

"But I managed to jump down and get out of there and I called the anonymous tip line and wait in the Jeep. Still couldn’t start the damn thing and I was in no shape to drive. The police go in and come back out in like minutes. So I’m all confused. There’s no call for backup. So I go back inside. The library looks pristine. All the scaffolding is back in place. The shelves look just like they did the first time I left. There’s no pole, no blood, no body. No sign of anything. If my shoulder hadn’t been injured I would have been positive the whole thing was a hallucination. Especially since when I walked back out to the Jeep that time, it started right up and I hadn’t had a chance to do anything to it.”

“Jesus, that would have been distressing,” Derek agreed. “But if he attacked you first and you tried to run multiple times, it was definitely self-defense, not murder. And you said you weren’t even trying to hurt him, just keep him from following you. So it was an accident. Horrible and awful and I’m sure you could do with some therapy, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s sort of what I was thinking at first. But then one of the chimeras attacked Kira and she fights back-happened to almost take its head off. I tried to bring it up with Scott and he’s adamant that any action that ends with someone dead is murder. That if Kira hadn’t stopped herself, the fact that she was defending her life had no bearing on whether she was a murderer. So then I couldn’t talk to Scott and Dad always believes Scott over me, so I couldn’t tell him either and Kira’s right out because she’s Scott’s girlfriend and possibly not herself anyway. And I didn’t trust Theo and I couldn’t tell Lydia. I just…”

“Hey, hey,” Derek shushed her, pulling her into a hug. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay now.” Stiles suddenly realized that her cheeks were wet with tears. “So you started second-guessing yourself on Scott’s morality. And then Theo starts making you doubt your own memories, claiming to have been there when you don’t remember there being any trace of him… God, this has got to have been really hard on you.”

“And then Malia, like a few weeks later, was all, oh, BTW, I knew the whole fucking time but because I only have social skills when it suits me, I didn’t tell you that because I decided that it doesn’t matter if you killed someone. Like, apparently I actually could have talked to her. But then she’s all, oh, it doesn’t matter and I don’t care if you brutally psycho-murdered him or whatever.”

“I’m sure she meant well but someone belittling a traumatic experience really wasn’t what you needed.”

“Yeah, I know she meant well. But she told me that it didn’t matter. The entire situation that had been screwing with my head for however long that eternity was didn’t matter.”

“She probably meant that it didn’t change who you are, as a person,” Derek suggested. “That it didn’t change your identity, or her relationship with you. Regardless of how she said it, I’m sure she meant something nice.”

“I guess,” Stiles muttered. “It sounded awful.”

“How you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Alright. Do you want me to give you an idea of where Theo might have been?”

“Okay…?”

“Theo could have gotten up on the lofted area without you seeing him while you were hiding and then grappling with Donovan, right?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Okay, so Theo’s up there. You run that direction, climb up on the scaffolding. Could there have been a pipe where he was standing?”

“Maybe…” Stiles frowned at Derek. Where was he going with this?

“I think maybe Theo told your Dad the truth. I think he may have been up on the loft and threw down the pole that killed Donovan while you were hiding your head. You wouldn’t have seen him because you jumped down and ran off. Maybe he managed to clean up the library behind Donovan before the police got there. Response time is what, fifteen, twenty minutes? What kind of supernatural did you say he was?”

“He first claimed that he was a werewolf. Then he said he was half werewolf, half werecoyote. But then he resurrected people without having a magic user to do the ritual for him. Peter knew the ritual but he had to have blood of his blood and a banshee. Theo just snapped his fingers or something and resurrected four people in one night. So maybe Theo has magic.”

“Can we go with that theory?” Derek asked. “Theo was up on the loft and he killed Donovan and cleaned it up with magic?”

“I guess.”

“Good. Eat your pop-tart before it gets cold.”

“What are you, my father?” Stiles asked with an eye-roll but she picked up her pastry. Derek smiled at her.

“Did you finish your homework for tomorrow yet?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “With everyone gone or not talking to me, I’ve been really up on my work.”

“Good. You’re going to sleep here with me or I’ll sleep at your house with you until your father gets out of the hospital. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I didn’t…” Stiles trailed off and tried again. “Um, I don’t… You… Uh…”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course,” she agreed without having to think about it. “I didn’t think you’d try to take advantage or anything. Just… I don’t even have my toothbrush.”

“I bet you put extras in the bathrooms, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, then, problem solved. Come on, finish your snack. Then we’re going to have an early night. I’ll take you to school in the morning and then we can go see your father after you get out.”

“Okay.” Stiles gave herself over into Derek’s care. He would make sure that it all turned out alright.


End file.
